


a reunion

by BlackJacketsandPens



Series: Ardyn Yescon Week 2k18 [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn YesCon Week, M/M, gil aint going nowhere, listen. LISTEN. you can't tell me shit didn't go down in taelpar, the bonds of shield loyalty are strong already but add in some Love and well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 12:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackJacketsandPens/pseuds/BlackJacketsandPens
Summary: Ardyn Yescon Week 2018, Day 6 - "Unexpected"Two thousand years is a very long time to be alone -- and a very long time to believe you’ve failed, that you’re the cause of someone’s death. But certain bonds can transcend even death, and those bonds have a way of pulling people back to each other again, even in unexpected ways.(TW for mention of past suicide attempts.)





	a reunion

Ardyn Yescon Week - Day 6 - “Unexpected”

_Reunion -- Gildyn_

Ths was ridiculous, Ardyn reflected. Or it would be once his head stopped vibrating enough to think clearly. So a damn bird had stolen his hat, yes, that was one thing. That was his hat, thank you very much. He liked that hat. It was a nice hat. So of course he’d gone to fetch it, and oh, just his luck, had walked right into a very territorial elder coeurl. Or two? Or three? He’d been too busy getting mauled by giant angry cats with lightning whiskers to count clearly.

It was what he got for being a daemon, he supposed. Animals just didn’t like him anymore. He couldn’t even recall if he’d gotten his hat back. They’d shocked him pretty severely, and his brain felt like it was rattling around in a jar being thoroughly shaken. He wasn’t even sure where he was, beyond ‘bleeding badly and kind of unhappy’. He’d stumbled off...somewhere. But where? He knew he was in Cleigne, at least! 

He groaned and leaned back against the wall -- wall? Okay, so he was inside? A quick look around said no; to the right of him was open sky, a dirt road and a general...field-like area, with cliffs on either side, and only darkness lay to the left. A...cave? 

Wait.

His heart stopped for a moment and he levered himself to standing, wobbling slightly with dizziness and blood loss -- he’d heal, he was already healing, it wasn’t like he could die -- no. No, he hadn’t-- he hadn’t wandered-- _no_.

He took a shaking step out of the cavern’s mouth to look around, only for his horrified thought to be confirmed. “I’m an idiot,” he said aloud, hoarsely. “God, what was I...”

He wasn’t thinking, that was the answer. Disoriented and dazed and near Taelpar, he’d wandered right into-- he’d walked right up to the old Tempering Grounds. Gil’s old training grounds. What had he-- had he in his daze thought to seek his Shield, for protection or comfort or something-- god, he was an idiot. What was the point in that? These grounds were empty, and had been for two thousand years. His Shield was dead. He was alone, and a monster besides. He had no reason for anything stupid like...like…

His thoughts trailed off as he stared into the cave, eyes adjusting to the darkness and seeing-- something. Movement, light. Faint, but there, and he wanted to be sick on the spot because no, there shouldn’t be anything in there. Who was in there? There was a jolt of fury through him, that someone would try to desecrate such a place -- even if its meaning was forgotten, its legacy was forgotten, just like him -- and he was limping forward into the caverns before the rest of him could think of how bad an idea it was.

He wasn’t twenty or thirty feet into the caverns before he had to stop and lean against the wall, his other hand still wrapped around his bleeding abdomen. But he just...he had to...he retched a little, empty stomach not producing much more than bile, but-- no. No. No. _No_. It can’t be. Was he-- was this what-- did Somnus--

The skeletons are strewn across the ground, still in armor Ardyn knows intimately well -- his Crownsguard, his people -- and there are still swords sticking out of them. This was-- it was a _massacre._ It was broken bodies scattered like leaves, some pinned to the walls, impaled or dangling by their feet, it was...he couldn’t look at it. He couldn’t look and know what had happened, couldn’t imagine-- couldn’t bear to imagine. But he did anyway, knew what had occurred here, could picture Gil fleeing with his men -- the loyal ones, the ones that refused to bow to a false king -- to his training grounds, barricading themselves in, Somnus’s men laying siege, finally breaking through, slaughtering their way through the-- through Ardyn’s people. 

Killing-- killing so many, killing Gil’s second, killing Gil’s sons, killing _Gil_ \--

He leaned against the wall again, trying not to cry and failing. This was his fault. His stupid naivete had caused this slaughter. God, he’d thought it would be-- it wouldn’t hurt anymore, so long ago and so-- and after all this pain and suffering and hate and bitterness, it shouldn’t hurt anymore. He’d lost everything, had been broken over and over, and what was left to break further? Nothing. He was the Accursed, setting plans in motion to tear the world down, and-- he couldn’t feel anymore. Couldn’t afford it. Wasn’t human to do so. And yet…

Light flickered in front of closed eyes, and he opened them to see-- “...what?” He managed, voice hoarse. Will-o-wisps, motes of light, silver blue and faint, dancing among the ancient bodies-- not just light, he could feel something from them, something more, but what…?

The lights brush against him, searching, and slip into the bodies -- souls, he realized. They were _souls_. That was-- they stayed? They were still here? His men were-- why? Why did they-- why were they--

The suits of armor stand, just bones encased in steel now, and their helmets glow faintly from within. He stares at them, and they stare back, and it’s an impossible sight. They can’t-- this cannot be. Why were they still here?

“Your Majesty?” One of the souls asked, voice clear and only slightly echoing, filled with confusion and amazement and hope. “Is-- is that you, Your Majesty?”

Two words, like someone had stabbed him through the gut. Your Majesty-- _Your Majesty_. When was the last time he had heard that? When was the last time he had been remembered as king? When was-- he hadn’t...not in two thousand years. Not since he was betrayed…

And yet here were the souls of his men, his people, still loyal after all that time, bending their knees before him like he was still worth that. Like he still deserved it. “--Don’t,” he managed, voice hoarse and shaking. “You don’t have to kneel to me. You’ve-- you already died for me. That’s...that’s enough.”

It was a small blessing that his clothes were black, and that he was able to act unharmed -- he didn’t want them to know he was wounded, that he was bleeding, that he wasn’t human even if they knew what he’d done to himself with his healing magic -- but he couldn’t hide the emotions on his face. Whatever he’d done to kill them off, to force his own inhumanity, it was lost in the face of his past being-- his men, his loyal men, still lingering. 

They stood, though, and though they had no faces any longer, the way they tilted their heads, the way one of the reached for him as if to help him, they could...it was like they knew. It wasn’t as if he was hiding his feelings, though. “Your Majesty,” the one with his hand on his arm said. “Come with us. He-- you’ll need to see him.”

If they said anything else after that, Ardyn didn’t hear it. Him? Him-- it had to be-- oh. Oh, no. No, he isn’t-- he wasn’t-- he hadn’t lingered, too? Trapped here, dead, suffering as he was? No, he didn’t deserve that. Not to suffer like that, not to...not to be here surrounded by his failures. Only _Ardyn_ deserved that. It was his fault, this was all his fault. Not Gilgamesh’s. He didn’t...this eternal not-a-life shouldn’t be his prison, too.

There were more souls as they walked through the cavern, flickering around them like so many fireflies, voices rising in amazement and delight and reverence -- their king was here, their king had returned, their king was _alive_. (Ardyn didn’t want to tell them why.) They were so...it was so...he couldn’t handle their happiness. He had gotten them _killed_. He was not their king any longer, not this Scourge-ridden monster he’d become. But he didn’t...he didn’t have the heart to deny them this.

He knew the little lake they stopped in, all the souls still floating around and welcoming him, elated and in awe of his presence, and he waited there a moment, two, and then three, and he knew when the souls all darted away and the two suits of armor who had led him vanished from his side that-- he knew. They’d all known, of course, and-- and they knew this was something private.

For a moment, he didn’t recognize him -- too tall, too like a statue of a knight, made too great and too inhuman in his death, faceless and monstrous -- but then it melted away and all that was left was Gilgamesh Amicitia, bronze skin and white hair and the tattoo on his arms, brown eyes wide with disbelief and shock and-- _“...Ardyn?”_

Ardyn didn’t register falling to his knees, hands over his mouth, didn’t register the sobs tearing themselves out of him, didn’t register anything but the sight before him, closing the distance and falling to the ground with him, throwing his arms around his king and cradling him gently, like he was fragile porcelain. “Oh god, _Ardyn_ ,” his voice was choked. “How are you-- you’re _alive_ , oh god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know--”

“No,” Ardyn managed through the sobs. “No, don’t-- don’t apologize, don’t you _dare_ apologize, I-- this was all my fault, I’m the one who-- I’m sorry, Gil, you shouldn’t-- this shouldn’t-- it should just be _me_...”

He couldn’t manage to continue, but buried his face in his Shield’s shoulder-- it was only when he was pushed back, gently, that he saw the horror and concern on Gil’s face and his heart dropped. “You’re hurt,” he said quietly, lifting his hand so they both could see the viscous black blood on it. “You’re…oh, Ardyn, what _happened_ to you?”

“I’m a monster,” his voice was broken, hollow, and he couldn’t meet his Shield’s eyes. “When they-- when they executed me, I--” He broke off both with how hard it was to speak of and because the wounded noise Gil made was unbearable. “--I became a daemon in truth. And then-- and then the gods wouldn’t let me...they still haven’t let me…” A sob escaped him, and he let Gil pull him into his arms again. 

It didn’t last as long, this time, the Shield sounding guilty and pained. “You can’t die?” He asked quietly, and Ardyn shook his head. He shifted away, or tried to, but the man grabbed a wrist and pulled his coat’s sleeve up before he could escape, and the scars that ran from wrist to elbow were visible. Proof of his immortality, proof of his brokenness. How many times had he tried? The scars that were almost uncountable on his arms, the scar upon his throat, the many, many times he’d-- the ones above his heart, the damaged leg from when he’d thrown himself off a cliff and it had shattered, unable to heal right...countless times over the centuries, until he’d given up trying.

“Oh, Ardyn,” Gil said. “If I had known...I thought this was my punishment for failing you,” he told him quietly. “That I was trapped here for failing as a Shield, as some kind of retribution. But...if I had known I was here still because you were, I would have come for you. I’m so sorry-- you needed me, and I--”

“Because I am?” Ardyn managed. “Oh, no, Gil, no-- I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to--” Had the gods truly-- 

“Not as a punishment,” Gil interrupted. “I am here still because I’ll _never leave you_ , Ardyn. I told you-- I am yours, body and soul, always. As long as you remain, so will I.” 

There was more that needed said, Ardyn thought. Gilgamesh needed to know the role the gods had put him into. He needed to know what was happening, what was going to happen. He needed to know the rest of it, that his king was-- that the boy with the sun in his smile was dead, even if his body still walked the earth.

But he couldn’t bear that. He couldn’t-- “Gil,” he whispered, and reached for him.

“Ardyn,” his Shield said, and took his wrists in his hands, pulling him into a kiss. 

It was desperate, passionate, the first kiss Ardyn had had in two thousand years, and it was _Gilgamesh--_ it was his Shield, it was his beloved, half of his soul, who he thought he’d lost, one of the people he loved best-- it was him, he was here, and he barely registered them falling backwards into the shallow water, so focused on each other were they. 

They had never expected this, never believed it could happen-- but they were both here, both somehow still trapped here, Ardyn in his pain and in the gods’ script but Gilgamesh here because he was...because his devotion transcended death. Because he loved Ardyn so so much, he wouldn’t move on without him. 

Even if he was the Accursed, even if-- even if it was too late to stop his plans now-- he had this. He had this and for a moment, for this moment, as hands found their way beneath clothes, as breaths quickened and turned to moans and quiet pleas, for this moment he could be-- he could recapture the man he was. He could be loved, he could love. 

And-- and he would, he could never, never be without Gil again. Not again. 

**Author's Note:**

> I know it isn't really one of the prompts again, but it fits the theme of unexpected really well, and that's the first thing I came up with. It really wrote itself once I figured out how to get Ardyn to Taelpar.
> 
> Look, I took one look at those dead soldiers and knew they'd been slaughtered and routed and ran into that cave to escape; you can't tell me that wasn't a straight up massacre. How else did those guys end up dangling from their own swords by their FEET. #ThanksSomnus
> 
> But yeah. Shield bonds are strong to begin with, but when you're also basically soulmates? That's why Gil is still here -- he isn't leaving without his king. :')


End file.
